


Star Wars: Sing Strikes Back

by knoxoursavior



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Middle School, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 10:05:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17119295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knoxoursavior/pseuds/knoxoursavior
Summary: Sing is on a mission.Or: Shorter has a new best friend and Sing has something to say about it





	Star Wars: Sing Strikes Back

**Author's Note:**

> written for [heuisooon](https://twitter.com/heuisooon) as a part of the [banana fish secret santa](https://twitter.com/bf_santa) event

Sing is on a mission.

He has the lightsaber Nadia gave him on his last birthday tucked in the side-pocket of his backpack. The Rebel Alliance hat that his mom bought him when they went to Disneyland hides his face from view. He _could_ use the Force to make people forget that they saw him, but there are too many witnesses here at the mall, and he doesn’t want to abuse his powers like that.

The hat seems like it’s good enough anyway. He’s been following Shorter from his apartment all the way to the mall, and Shorter hasn’t discovered him yet. Now, Sing is sitting behind a huge plant, watching from behind the leaves as Shorter and _Ash_ share a plate of nachos.

Sing frowns, tracks the way Shorter catches Ash in a headlock and gives him a noogie with narrowed eyes. It should be _him_ spending time with Shorter on a Saturday afternoon. It should be him that Shorter is giving a noogie to, because even if Sing _hates_ noogies, he hates this Ash even more for stealing Shorter away from him.

Before Ash came around, Sing and Shorter would play every Saturday. Sing would always do his homework every Friday— _all_ of it! Then, he’d wake up really early the next morning and he’d clean his room up and make his bed and he’d help his mom set the table for breakfast. He’d eat all of his vegetables even though he _hates_ vegetables and could be eating cereal instead. He’d do all these things because if he was good enough, his mom would let him go next door to the Wongs and he could spend the whole day playing with Shorter.

But ever since Shorter started middle school, he hasn’t been hanging out with Sing anymore. Sometimes, maybe, after he gets home and Sing isn’t too mad at him for being gone the whole day, but there’s only been a handful of times that’s happened and Sing is _sick of it_.

He wants his best friend back, and if he has to learn what middle schoolers do in their free time, then he _will_.

So far, his list goes like this: staring at the display in front of the sporting goods store, pushing at each other in front of the sporting goods store, and eating nachos for lunch at the food court. Which means that so far, life as a middle schooler seems boring as _heck_ and Sing doesn’t know why Shorter would rather do all those things than play with _him_.

What’s worse is that after Shorter and Ash have lunch, they just go back to the sporting goods store and they just stand there, _again_ , doing absolutely _nothing_ , and it’s so _weird_. Sing never thought he’d ever call Shorter weird because Shorter has always, _always_ been the coolest because he gets to have his hair buzzed short and his clothes are always so cool and he lets Sing climb on his back like Yoda did on Luke when they were training in Empire Strikes Back.

When Ash takes Shorter by the shoulders and starts shaking him violently, Sing decides he’s had enough. He grabs his lightsaber, turns it on, and goes charging in with his arms raised above his head, swinging back his lightsaber, ready for a hit.

But before he can even reach Ash, Shorter’s hand is on the back of his hoodie, holding him back.

“Let go of me!” Sing shouts. He tries his very best to wiggle out of his hold but Shorter doesn’t let up, and all Sing can do is to glare up at Ash, who only stares back at him, eyebrows raised.

Shorter takes away Sing’s lightsaber, hides it away from view before Sing can even figure out what’s going on.

“You shouldn’t point your lightsaber at innocent people,” Shorter says.

“He was hurting you!” Sing says.

His hands are so so _so_ close to Ash. Just a little bit more, and Sing can reach him and tackle him to the ground. Just a bit more—

“Stop it.” Shorter sighs, and suddenly, Sing is hanging in the air, face-to-face with Shorter who’s looking down at him with clear disappointment that makes Sing lose all the fight left in his body. Shorter clicks his tongue, puts Sing down, and asks, “Are you done?”

For now, maybe. Sing will have more opportunities to attack later, when Shorter and Ash least expect it.

“Gimme back my lightsaber,” he demands instead of answering, but Shorter doesn’t budge.

“I’ll give it back to you _if_ you promise not to attack my friend,” he says.

Shorter has never been afraid of Sing, really, even when Sing is trying _really_ hard to frown and knit his eyebrows and look scary like his mom does when he doesn’t clean up the messes he makes, or when he comes home and tracks mud and dirt all over the newly-vacuumed floors. Nadia doesn’t get scared either, which either makes the Wongs really awesome or Sing really bad at being scary.

Sing likes to think it’s the former.

“Well?”

Shorter shakes Sing in his hold and stares at him expectantly. Sing could refuse and wait until Shorter gets tired of holding him up, but Shorter can carry Sing on his back for a _really_ long time. He can probably hold Sing up like this for a long time too.

Sing doesn’t like it, but he nods. Finally, Shorter puts him down. He doesn’t hand back Sing’s lightsaber though, instead tucks it inside Sing’s backpack instead of the side-pocket where it belongs.

That’s fine. Sing doesn’t need a lightsaber to attack Ash later. He has the Force.

“What are you doing here, Sing?” Shorter asks. He ruffles Sing’s hair, which Sing hates because it reminds him how tall Shorter is compared to him. Then again, at least Shorter is just ruffling his hair instead of giving him a noogie.

“None of your business,” Sing says, and he barely resists the urge to stick his tongue out. Nadia says it makes him look like a baby.

Shorter raises his eyebrows. “Really? Where’s Auntie then?”

“At home.”

“Oh? So who did you come here with?” Shorter looks around, but Sing already knows he won’t find what he’s looking for.

“No one!” Sing answers. He crosses his arms, tips his chin up, challenging. “I’m a big boy; I can go out by myself.”

Shorter laughs, gently cuffs the side of Sing’s head exactly like he does when Sing tries to lie to him about not eating the candy Shorter has stashed in his nightstand.

“You don’t look so big to me, shorty.”

Sing huffs, stomps one foot hard against the tiled floors. “I’ll be taller than you one day!”

“Sure, Sing,” Shorter says, and judging by his grin, he doesn’t mean it. _At all_.

Sometimes, Shorter is the best, but there are times like this when he’s the absolute _worst_. Sing can’t even remember why he went out here and followed Shorter in the first place. For all he cares, Shorter can go and fu—

“If he does turn out to be taller than you when he grows up, I’m going to laugh at you.”

Sing turns to Ash, his eyes narrowed and his fists clenched at his sides because he _really_ wants to hate Ash for stealing Shorter away, but he isn’t exactly happy with Shorter right now.

“Ah, that’s mean, Ash. Would you really laugh at your best friend?” Shorter says, and _that’s it—_

“I’m your best friend!”

Sing feels his cheeks burning up, hears his blood rushing in his ears. His vision is a screen of red. He wants to walk out and go back home, but he also needs to hear what Shorter has to say because he’s had _enough_ of this.

He misses Shorter, misses spending time with Shorter. But if Shorter would just _say_ that they aren’t best friends anymore, then at least, Sing would know not to wait at the Wong’s every afternoon for Shorter to get home.

But then—

“Huh?” Shorter says. He puts his hand on his hip, knits his eyebrows together. “Of course you are, Sing.”

He doesn’t sound like he’s lying, and he doesn’t sound like he’s mocking Sing. It’s not like those times when his mom is shouting at him to clean up his room while he and Sing are playing a game and Shorter promises he will in just a second but he never does.

But then that doesn’t make any sense.

“So why are you saying you’re _his_ best friend?” Sing asks.

Ash interjects before Shorter can answer, saying, “People can have more than one best friend, kiddo.”

Sing huffs. “I’m not a kid!”

Ash raises his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry.”

“He’s right, you know,” Shorter says. “I can have two best friends.”

He’s smiling down at Sing and it’s bright and wide, exactly like the Shorter Sing has built up in his head, his best friend, his brother, his idol. It’s a smile that tells him Shorter is happy to see him, to spend time with him, even though he’s years younger and should be no more than a neighbor’s annoying kid.

Still, there’s something bothering Sing.

“I don’t understand,” he says. “How can two people be the best?”

“Two people can be the best. It just means that you and Ash are tied and I like you two the same way,” Shorter says. Then, he wraps an arm around Sing’s shoulders, doesn’t let him escape from a noogie right on the top of his head. “Besides, you’re both the best because I said so, alright?”

Well. Sing can’t say no to that, and Shorter doesn’t give him a chance to either. Already, he has both Sing and Ash by their wrists, pulling them towards the sporting goods store.

“Come on,” he says. “We’re going inside.”

Sing doesn’t mind, but Ash does, apparently, because he resists, plants his feet on the ground and refuses to go along with Shorter.

“No, we’re not!”

But Shorter doesn’t even pause, just pulls harder until Ash finally lets himself get dragged along.

“ _Shorter_ ,” Ash says, and now he’s trying to pull his wrist away from Shorter’s grasp. He can’t, though. Sing can relate, considering how many times he’s tried to get away from Shorter when he has something yucky on his hands like mud or ketchup and he’s trying to wipe it off on Sing’s face.

Of course, Nadia always catches Shorter and gives him a taste of his own medicine.

“ _Ash_ ,” Shorter counters. “You said that after we eat, you’re definitely going in to see Eiji, so that’s what we’re definitely going to do.”

“Who’s Eiji?” Sing asks, because if it’s another one of Shorter’s _best friends,_ then he’s telling on Shorter to Nadia about being greedy.

But then Shorter shakes his head. “Eiji is the boy Ash has a crush on.”

“ _Shorter!_ ”

Shorter laughs. “What? I’m just answering his question.”

“What if Eiji hears?” Ash hisses, which is _lame_. If Ash likes this Eiji boy, then what does it matter if he hears? When Sing finds someone he likes, he’s going to tell them. Nadia said that he shouldn’t be afraid of expressing himself, so he won’t be.

“Ash? Shorter?”

“Eiji,” Shorter greets, and he lets Sing’s wrist go so he can wave at Eiji.

Eiji, who is dressed in a fluffy pink shirt and has hair that looks like it’ll be just as soft as the Chewbacca plushie Sing has back home. His smile is _really_ pretty. Sing can see why Ash likes him, but he doesn’t see why Ash can’t tell him when he seems like he deserves to hear that he’s great.

“Hi there! It’s nice seeing you outside of school. Are you here to buy something?” Eiji says.

“Ah, no, Ash just wanted to see you.”

It’s Shorter who answers again, and when Sing peeks at Ash on Shorter’s other side, he sees that Ash is frozen in place.

“Really?” When Sing looks back at Eiji, he sees that Eiji’s smile is even wider and prettier now. He must like Ash too then, if he’s happy. Sing doesn’t know why he would, but okay.

“Um. Yeah,” Ash stutters out, and Sing can’t help but roll his eyes.

“You have my landline, don’t you? You can call next time if you want to see me. I’ll come meet up with you,” Eiji says, and Sing has to hide a snicker behind his hand because Ash now looks like a bright red tomato with a blonde wig and it’s _too much_.

“Oh,” Ash says. “Great. I’ll do that. Next time.”

Sing isn’t supposed to like Ash, but it’s hard not to feel sorry for him at least. As a Jedi, he should do his best to help other people, so maybe he’ll do Ash a favor just this once.

He walks up to Eiji, latches onto the hem of his sleeve, looks up at him with the same wide eyes Sing uses to beg his mom for more cookies.

“Who might you be?” Eiji asks.

“I’m Sing.”

Eiji extends a hand that Sing takes, shakes just like Shorter taught him.

“Hi there, Sing. I’m Eiji.”

“I know,” Sing says, and then, “Ash talks about you a lot.”

And it’s not exactly a lie, so Shorter has nothing to report back to his mom. It’s just a guess, and if Ash really likes Eiji, then there’s no way it isn’t true.

“Does he?” Eiji glances back at Ash, and then he leans down, like he and Sing are sharing a secret, asks, “What does he say about me, Sing?”

“That he _really_ likes you and that he really, _really_ wants to go to the arcade with you,” Sing says. He ignores the sounds of choking that he hears behind him. Judging by the way Eiji laughs, Ash will be just _fine_.

“Is that so?” Eiji says. “Well, I really like him too, and I really, really wanna go to the arcade with him too. I can ask my mom if we can go to the arcade now, if you want?”

His last question is directed at Ash, who’s apparently even redder now. Not even tomatoes are _that_ red.

“Um—that’s, um. That’s great.”

Eiji waves, and then he runs further into the store, probably so he can find his mom like he said he would. He leaves behind Ash, who seems like he’s barely holding onto life, and Shorter and Sing, who high-five each other as soon as Eiji’s out of hearing range.

“Good job, Sing,” Shorter says.

Ash covers his face with his hands. It doesn’t help much, really. His ears are sticking out from under his hair and they’re really red too. “Oh my god.”

“You’re welcome,” Sing tells Ash.

Now that Ash will be busy with Eiji, maybe Sing and Shorter can spend some time together. It’s a win for all of them, really.

“Oh my god.”

Sing and Shorter high-five again.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on [twitter](https://twitter.com/singeiji) heeey


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